


Amaretto

by Fuggy



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Adopted Children, Domestic Violence, M/M, Marriage, Sort of fucked up, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 07:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11436153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuggy/pseuds/Fuggy
Summary: There's something seriously wrong with Stuart Pot, he had married a man who leaves bruises on his peachy skin, a man who seemingly sucked the color from his eyes, and yet, he would never want to be with anyone else.





	Amaretto

 

   It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Stuart Pot believed he was in a perfect relationship. For the last  4 years he had been greeted with a hug and an incredibly deep kiss from his lover, giving a perfect illusion to the outside world, the illusion of pure happiness, pure and utter joy. 

As the saying goes, you never know what happens behind closed doors.

Behind the closed doors of the Niccals residence, were black and blue bruises on the rose skin of Stuart Pot, broken bottles with droplets of blood dried onto them, and piss stained into the once white carpet. But this was fine in itself. Or at least Stuart had thought so. People tend to misunderstand the situation, and it's really more simple then they make it out be, Stu would think. This,  _ this _ was true love in his eyes. To look past the sickly green, and dry wrinkled skin and see a broken man and still be able to  _ want him _ and  _ crave him _ every day, that was  _ true love. _

_ This, this is true love, _ Murdoc Niccals would think. Driving home everyday at about 7pm , the raven haired man would sit in the leather seat of his car a block away to drink from his flask and ponder on the day he spent, and the evening before him. Then would proceed to drive up to the front yard, he would close his car door, taking one last swig from his flask and knocking the house door, quietly tapping the wood to his drunken self, roughly pounding it to the outside world. So that by the time 2D had opened the door, it was 8pm, and when the door opened, and his lips smashed onto the face of the taller blue haired man, smelling faintly of liquor his mind would black out, and he would wake up the next morning in bed, naked next to Stuart, or in a nice puddle of his own vomit on the dining room floor.

 

So today had to be different. No drinking. Today had to be different because today was his own daughter’s birthday. He couldn't possibly fuck anything up after all she was turning 10, and this would be her first real memory of family, no matter how broken it was, and she didn’t deserve not seeing her daddy on a big day like this. Lord knows how life in Japan was, life with her father’s had to be better than that. Worth more. Stuart had reminded him this, it was supposed to be a birthday surprise.

 

And by 8, Stuart glanced at the door, swearing that the lock was twisting, and feeling his heartbeat, terrified the little girl, all dolled up to go out, could hear the thumping. The patters of his chest and the dragon flies in his stomach bumping into his rib cage. But she knew, so she looked at him, gazed at him until her eyes felt like holes on Stu’s neck, and he tore his gaze from the door away and towards her.

“Daddy is just late, is all.” Stuart choked out. “Have some patience.” Noodle nodded.

And 8:30 rolled around, though the hands of the clock crawled like a slug. Noodle by now had laid down on the skinny thighs of Stu, who was twiddling his thumbs, fidgeting with himself. Every little sound that the house made resembled the unlocking of the door, so that every other second, the creaking of the floorboards forced him to turn his head, never dulling any hope. Work is hard, as are times, there’s no doubt in his mind that he has ever been offered overtime, maybe today he needed the extra money for a bill Stu must have overlooked. Maybe, maybe-

“Dad?” the little girl looked up, big green eyes growing drowsy.

“Is he here yet? You heard him?” Stuart asked her frantically, forgetting for a moment that  the girl didn't comprehend much english. He stroked her hair, and tugged sweetly on the loose pigtail he had somehow formed together for her. “Soon, Noodle, very soon okay?” reassuring her with his pinky finger. She smiled as wide as she could for a sleepy 9 year old.

“Mmmm, soon.” Hooking her small finger onto his.

9 o’clock PM came and went

9 30 o’clock PM crawled second by second until the hour hand hit 10.

10:01 o’clock PM and soft snores hushed the young girl to sleep. And Stu watched her belly rise and fall, with scrunched together eyebrows.

Then 10 30, and Stu was now focusing on his stomach more than the lock of the door. He took his steps to the Kitchen entrance, then to the cupboards,and pulled out pots and pans, rice and 2 chicken breast. 

And when the pit in his stomach was filled by stewed chicken and rice, his eyes began to fill with water. Tears, not because he was angry at his husband for showing up late, no, not showing up at all without a ring to his cellphone to tell him that he’s fine, but because of absolute disappointment that the girl had to spend her day lying and sleeping on the couch cushions for her first birthday with her new parents. So washing the dishes was torture, and tears were flowing freely now, yet he kept his wailing to a minimum, as not to wake the girl.

11 38

Where could he be?

Fear rose and fell and was replaced with anxiety.

“Oh god” he whispered to himself. “Oh god what if he’s dead? What if he got in an accident and he’s dead? Oh god oh god”

With that he pulled out his phone and turned on the light by the couch where he sat down again next to the Noodle who was sound asleep. His heart was beating, to fast.

To fast,  _ calm down _ , he thought, calm down , who are you calling again? Murdoc, yes, okay Murdoc.

His fingers trembled and his eyes crossed. 

_ He's Fine, Pot, he’s fine. Just click the button _ ...so he did just so.

1 ring

2 rings

_ God he’s really dead _

3 rings

“Mmmmm, Hello?”

He paused

Out...outside. Outside? 

“ ‘Ello? Ooo‘s dis?”

“Murdoc?”

He stood, and slowly walked to the door.

“Murdoc, are you, outside?”

“Out,  _ burp _ , outside?”

Making no hesitations Stuart Pot opened his front door, seeing his husband walk drunkenly towards himself, and taking a second glance, along with a second deep breath, the man was severely intoxicated, his clothes had stains of red and brown and the scent of liquor no longer lingered about him but sticked to him like a leech on skin. The light of the moon did not flatter his features and the bottle of rum in his hand, nor did the quiet streets lessen the noise he made while dragging his heel and pant leg through the muddy ground.

He fell into Stuart’s arms.

“Murdoc, oh Murdoc oh my g-where were you? Where were you, where is your car?” He looked around him. “Murdoc did you drive home? Murdoc you didn't drive home did you?”

“Shut UP!” The man growled, fear settled in Stuarts stomach pit. But he pressed on.

“Murdoc did you drive home?” The raven haired man nodded. “Murdoc where’s ya car?”

“It’s uh, it’s a couple blocks away from here it's, on Merrick Road, yeah…”

“What’s it doing there Murdoc?”

Perhaps he had pushed him to talk to much, 2D should’ve known as soon as he looked up at his with his squinted multicolored eyes and his teeth bared in a smirk. He pushed 2D out of the doorway and into the house.

“Get offa me ya  _ fag _ ” Murdoc spat.

“I...im sorry Murdoc I shouldn’t have-”

Murdoc eyed the tall man whom looked so small when he was beneath him. “Now i ask questions o..okay? Where’s my  _ daughter _ ?”

Stuart froze, he thought if he didn't speak perhaps Murdoc would focus on him rather Noodle. But he repeated it again throwing the bottle on the ground, carpet cushioning it, making a hard thump sound.

“Where the hell is my daughter Pot?” 

“Murdoc please don’t,-” his voice trembled

“Fuckin-  _ Shut up Dents _ !” Murdocs voice raised in annoyance, making Stuart cower. His fist balled up “Every day I listen to you nag now just, just,” It seemed his stuttering was annoying to himself, and he tugged on the left side of his head. “just  _ shut the fuck up _ now Dents or I’ll knock your fucking teeth in like your eyes dem there. Where’s my  **_DAUGHTER_ ** ?” His shout seemed to shake the house, and he swung his fist, which seemed to rock Stuarts world, he shouted, crying

“Murdoc, Murdoc STOP!”

Noodle was awake noher small hands rubbed her bright blurry eyes in confusion. It didn’t take long for the rucus of the commotion to make her more alert then ever, and rushed to her fathers, pushing and shoving in a tangled mess shouting. “No!!!! Daddy Murdoc no! Dad  _ stop that  _ **_now!_ ** ” Her tiny fingers intertwining between the two grown men. As an effect, Murdoc swatted her off, unsure of his own strength, and sending her flying across the room and into the table. The steel legged table.

And it didn't take long before Stuart noticed the loud crying, and the little girl clutching her arm in a feverish fit.

“Noodle!” He shouted “Noodle get to your room now!” She looked at him through tearful eyes. “You hear me Nood?  _ Get out of here now _ !” The unknown of loudness of Stuart’s voice was less of a threat  and more of a warning, she wasn't sure what he said, but it was some kind of common sense that also told her to hide from Murdoc. Her small legs running up the stairs.

Murdoc had settled, unsure what was making that sound like crying, but telling it to be quiet, wherever it was. Whatever it was.

He grabbed a fistful of bright blue hair, focusing on only one of Stuart’s black eyes “Everyday you piss me off Stuart. Every day I come home to a nice home cooked meal and a good fuck. Everyday Stuart and yet you wonder why i get so...so fucking  _ pissed _ .”

“I’m sorry Murdoc!” Tears rolled down his cheeks at an alarming rate pain mixed with emotional trauma, he couldn’t stop them if he tried.

“Yeah? Yeah you’re sorry?”

“I’m so sorry Muds please let go of me, please….” Stuart pleaded, grasping at the stronghold the older man had on his head.

“You ain’t fucking sorry! You damned liar!” He raised his hand, and Stuart flinched, pushing out the words

“You’re right!”

“...what?”

_ He stopped _ , Stu thought

“You’re right, I am a liar, I lie all the time, I tell you I’ll be a good husband but I ain't, right? I’m not a good husband.” Murdoc was quiet. Stuart wasn’t sure what he was saying. He had never lied to Murdoc, he was in love with the man for christ sakes, even now. He was no liar, but he was fearful. “But, but you’re no better than me.” He added

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, letting go of the boys hear and growing tired from the strain in his muscles.

“You know what today is, Murdoc?”

“It’s uh, the 31st”

“Murdoc, today, you don't remember today? Murdoc today is Noodles birthday.” The man seemed unphased. “Your daughter’s birthday, Murdoc.”

“I know.”

“You know, but you come home drunk and you stink and you hit me and you,” He sniffs the up the mucus in his nose. “And you come home and you hurt our daughter Murdoc? How dare you?”

The words seem to sober the man up, and he feels the embarrassment well up in his stomach, “I didn’t, no i”

Stuart shouted, “Murdoc she’s in her room right now crying ‘cause of you Muds! Cause you hit her!”

Stuarts temper shot up, he had had enough of Murdoc's drunken ramblings.

“I didn’t mean that’ He told himself quietly, refusing to allow the man to look down, Stuart dared himself to hold Murdoc's head in his hands to look him dead in the eyes.

“Just like you didn’t mean to beat me? Every day you tell yourself this Murdoc. Every day when are you going to stop if you know what happens?”

The air was nothing but tense around the two, for once in the house, it was quiet as they looked each other in the eyes. Murdoc's cheeks were hot, and his pupils dilated. Stuart noticed this and felt the small hint of redemption that emerged from the man.

“Murdoc you gotta, you need to stop this please, if you love your daughter you need to stop this.” He stood, Murdoc, grabbed his wrist. Stuart shook him off, walking towards the bottle of rum.

“This, Murdoc, be it cigarettes or scotch or whisky or rum, I’m terrified it’ll kill you. I never cared too much about myself but I love you,” Stuart’s eyes squinted, feeling even more tears form.

“Don't say that Dents”

“But I gotta say that Murdoc,” he kneeled “I’m so in love with you it hurts and there isn't a day i don't sit on that couch with Noodle not thinking about you, and your open arms, but when you hit me over the head with a bottle, Murdoc I swear I’d rather die”

“Dents”

“And I’m just about sure I will if you let this happen any longer Muds.”

The gaze between the two was increasing in intensity per the second, Stuart stood, letting Murdoc wallow in his own shame as a headache began to pound into his skull. He walked to the fridge, stealing a glance at Murdoc every couple seconds, though he hasn't moved an inch from the door he had kneeled by. He grabbed a bag of frozen peas for Noodle’s most likely swollen arm, and made his ways up the stairs. Disappearing as a promise to not see Murdoc for the rest of the night. No matter how much that hurt him.

An hour later, when Murdoc had regained consciousness and his sanity, he found himself at the dining room table where Noodle had hit her head by. When he opened his eyes, all stomach contents came up, yellow and brown, more liquids than solids. 

For the first time in 4 years of marriage, the words of Stuart Pot had actually stayed in his memory after hours of heavy drinking. Usually, the boy would cower and although cry, take the beatings with a heavy and open heart, deeming the bruises as though they were out of love. And it was true, they were, in some part of Murdoc the blue and blacks were out of love, no doubt about that, is what he believed, though any outsider with a mind of their own wouldn't hesitate to say that Stuart was out of his mind to be in love with a man as crazy as Murdoc Niccals. 

At 2 AM, Murdoc found himself dragging his legs up the longer than usual staircase, a long and winding staircase that seemed to carry him upwards to a bright light, which in reality was just Noodle’s disney princess nightlight, ironic being that the girl enjoyed more hot wheels than Cinderella. The color of the blue dress of the cartoon princess illuminated the girls room with a hazy blue light, oddly nostalgic, the colors bled from under the room’s door. Murdoc twisted the ridiculously cold doorknob, and peered into the room.

Inside was like a vision or a renaissance painting of sorts. Stuart Pot held Noodle Niccals on her bed in a warm, tight embrace, she had a package of frozen peas, now warm peas in her hands, in a loose grasp.  Both of their mouths were open, snoring, though it was most definitely louder from Stuart than Noodle’s snore will ever be. Noodles bed was smaller than Murdoc’s and Stuart’s, so the blue haired man's legs hanged off from the side, giving ⅘ of the bed space to Noodle and ⅓ of his body on the bed. In all, the two looked beautiful, though the words would never pass Murdoc’s mouth.

He crawled, rather than walked into the room dragging his knees onto the carpet. He collapsed and stared at the ceiling

_ But when you hit me over the head with a bottle, Murdoc I swear I’d rather die _

He didn’t even realize the tears forming and falling at a rate he never thought we possible, since he hadn’t cried in this conscious state in so long. He sniffed, then heard the shuffle in Noodle, followed by a slight kick from the leg of Stuart which hung off the bed. It was funny how he did that sometimes.

A lot of things were funny about Stuart Pot, Murdoc thought, his entire being was funny and he didn't need to joke to make him laugh.

When Murdoc had first married the man, he’d make a promise that he wouldn’t become like his father. He told himself that, that Stuart meant more to him than a selfish need for drugs and liquor ever were,

Was it too late to change?

He’d done it before, and there was no doubt that Stuart had loved Murdoc more than he loved himself. Somehow, Murdoc would have to prove that the feelings were more than mutual.

Was it too late to change?

He drifted to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, sorry this was a little angsty. Sorry. Also poor noodle amirite? She didn't ask to be adopted by this fuck of a family.


End file.
